Hero
by Bladam-Shevine
Summary: A one shot in which Stan has to once again save Kyle from his own reckless behaviour. Trigger warning as this story deals with alcoholism, depression and suicidal thoughts.


Stan had just finished packing his second bowl when he was interrupted by the vibration of his phone on the bedside table beside him.

He sighed before looking at the caller id, surprised to see the name "Clyde Donovan" written across the screen.

"Hello?" Stan grumbled.

" _Stan. You have to come over to my house right now."_

Stan rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to leave the comfort of his bedroom at the moment. He was quite content with staying inside the warm house, getting high, rather than having to go out into the freezing cold and walk the few blocks over to the Donovan household. "Dude, I'm kind of busy."

" _No, Stan, you don't understand. It's Kyle."_

Stan felt his heart skip a beat. "What happened to Kyle?"

" _Dude, I don't know. He had a lot to drink at my party and I think he might've taken acid or something. He was super fucked up and now he locked himself in the bathroom. Nobody can convince him to come out."_

Stan felt his chest clench in anger. _Goddamit Kyle._ He thought.

"Is Kenny there?"

" _Yeah. He's pretty fucked up himself, but he's at the door talking to Kyle right now."_

"Ok, Clyde. Thanks for letting me know. I'll be there in 10 minutes." And without even saying goodbye, Stan hung up the phone.

Kyle had been diagnosed with depression a couple years ago, and hadn't been himself in a while. He tried therapy, medication… any treatment possible, but nothing seemed to work for the poor red-headed boy. He had even been hospitalized for a while when his mother found out he had been cutting himself. Stan felt bad for his friend, he really did. But, he couldn't help but feel annoyed at some of the trouble he had gotten himself into. Kyle had resorted to using drugs and alcohol to try and cope with his pain, and of course this caused more unnecessary suffering for the teen.

Stan loved Kyle, just as anyone loved their best friend, but he also couldn't deal with Kyle's daily lack of sobriety and found himself pushing away from the Jewish teen. He tried to be there for him, but it was nights like these, where he would get a call from Clyde, or Kenny, or Craig or even Cartman saying that Kyle was in some sort of danger and Stan needed to go and rescue him again that caused him to want to cut all ties with his friend. He was there for Kyle, but sometimes things were just too overwhelming for Stan, who had his own personal demons.

A haunting memory crept over Stan as he made his way out the front door. It was only a couple weeks after Kyle had been diagnosed with depression. Stan was at home with Kenny, eating pizza and watching TV when he got a call from a very drunk Eric Cartman.

" _Hello?" Stan had answered. He heard laughter on the other end, and felt annoyed thinking that this might be a drunk dial, but before he had a chance to hang up Cartman's voice screamed in his ear._

" _Stan! Oh my God Stan! Kahl is just like spazzing out on my floor!" Stan listened as he heard more laughter escaping Cartman's mouth._

" _What are you talking about, fatass?"_

" _We were like taking shots and then he just like fell down and now he's shaking and stuff! Hey Kahl get off the fucking floor!"_

 _Stan sat up on the couch, horror pouring over him as he realized what Cartman was saying. He turned to Kenny and quietly told him to call 911 and send them over to Cartman's house._

" _Cartman, listen to me, this isn't funny. Kyle's having a seizure, he probably has alcohol poisoning. Kenny's calling an ambulance right now. You need to put Kyle on his side in case he vomits."_

" _He better not vomit on my fucking carpet!"_

 _Stan realized that Cartman was too drunk to reason with, and grabbed Kenny by the wrist, running towards Cartman's house, to handle the situation._

And they almost lost Kyle that night. Stan felt tears form in his eyes as he recalled the memory of seeing his friend, unconscious on the floor, barely breathing. It was terrifying seeing him being loaded into an ambulance, a tube down his throat, helping him breathe.

Stan recalled his memories of wanting to punch Cartman for letting Kyle drink so much that he had to have his stomach pumped later that night.

That was the first of many phone calls to come, and Stan was just as scared every single time it happened. His reckless friend, who cared so little about his life could very much be dead right now, if it wasn't for Stan. And Stan was done. He hated having to be the one to always take care of the red-headed boy. He just wanted Kyle to get better, so that everything could go back to normal. But, here he was again, walking outside in the cold, narrowly avoiding slipping on patches of ice, off to rescue his drunken friend.

Stan arrived to the front door, inviting himself in to the stench of weed and alcohol. He looked around the room full of drunken teens and began walking upstairs, towards the bathroom where Kyle had apparently locked himself into. While heading up the stairs he passed Clyde who had a very drunk Bebe wrapping herself around his staggering form.

"Stan! You made it!" He said, trying to push Bebe off of him.

"Yeah, I'm here. Where's Kyle?"

"Follow me." Clyde said, leading Stan up the stairs, dragging Bebe along with him.

He led Stan to the door where Kenny was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of. Stan walked towards the blonde-haired boy.

"Hey, Ken. What's the situation?"

Kenny looked up at his friend, frowning. "He's just not acting like himself, Stan. I've been trying to get him to come out for at least an hour now, and he just won't listen. Maybe he'll listen to you though."

Stan sighed and walked up to the door, lightly knocking.

"Kyle?"

A few moments of silence passed before a small voice was heard on the other side of the door. "Go away."

"Kyle, its Stan. I just want to talk."

"Go away, Stan. I don't want to talk."

"Kyle, come on. I just want to know what's going on. A lot of people are worried about you right now; can you please just let me in so I can know what's wrong?"

Stan felt worry creep up inside him when Kyle didn't respond, but was relieved when the door finally opened, very slightly and Kyle's quiet voice said, "Just you, Stan. No one else."

"Okay, Kyle. It's just me. I'm coming in." He announced, pushing the door open.

He gasped as he saw Kyle sitting on the floor, his face stained with tears. Tiny red tufts of curls were sprawled across the tiles of the bathroom floor and Stan felt himself cringe in realizing that he must've been pulling out his own hair.

Stan shut the door behind him and sat down next to Kyle.

"What's going on, dude?"

"I don't know, Stan."

Stan felt annoyed at the lack of explanation to his answer. "Kyle. Why did you lock yourself in the bathroom? And why have you been pulling your hair out?"

Kyle just looked down at his hands folded in his lap, refusing to talk to his friend.

"Kyle… How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Just a few beers."

Stan sighed. "Then what's going on, dude? Why are you acting like this?"

"I don't know. I'm just not feeling like myself."

"What do you mean by that?"

Stan noticed that more tears began to escape Kyle's emerald eyes and he reached to grab him some toilet paper to dry away the tears. Kyle accepted it, gratefully and dabbed at the tears on his pale cheeks.

"Kyle, please talk to me. What's going on? Clyde was really worried about you… He said you were drunk or high and I think he was afraid you were going to hurt yourself in here or something…"

"I'm fucked up, Stan."

"Okay… So you've had a bit too much to drink."

"No, Stan. It's not that. You don't understand. _I'm fucked up._ "

Stan felt aggravated at the vagueness of Kyle's words. "You're right Kyle, I don't understand. Can you please just tell me what you mean?"

Kyle looked up at his friend, his eyes red and puffy. "I'm just so tired, Stan. I'm so sick of feeling this way. I hate feeling like there's no hope for me. I drink to cure my pain and then I end up feeling worse instead. I just want it to all end."

"You want what to end?" Stan prodded.

"Just everything, Stan!" Kyle shouted. He was now in hysterics. Sobbing hard, and struggling to breathe. Stan reached out and hugged Kyle, feeling himself get teary-eyed at the sight of his crying friend.

"I-I'm s-so sorry, Stan."

Stan shushed Kyle and rubbed circles into his back, trying to calm the red-head down. They sat there for several moments, until Kyle had finally fallen quiet. Stan was trying to wrap his mind around the things that Kyle had said to him. _He wanted it all to end…_

Stan pushed Kyle back slightly, forcing the teen to make eye contact with him. "Ky, were you thinking of hurting yourself tonight?"

Kyle gulped back more tears, not wanting to answer his friend. "N-no."

"You just said, you wanted it all to end… That kind of sounds to me like you were thinking of killing yourself."

And it wouldn't be the first time that Kyle had threatened to take his own life. They had been in that situation many times before, and Stan prepared himself for it every time. Each time had become less concerning, however. Stan had almost gotten used to Kyle's suicidal threats, but he will always remember the first time Kyle mentioned these dark thoughts out loud.

 _It was last October and the two boys were walking along the train tracks, heading home from a Halloween party at Token's house. They had both been drinking that night; Stan was feeling a bit fuzzy headed himself. They were stumbling together, laughing and having a good time as the two of them tried to walk in a straight line back home._

 _It was Kyle who noticed the lights from an oncoming train in the distance, and warned Stan that they should move. Stan nodded his head and walked off the tracks onto the grass beside them, but frowned when he saw that Kyle was still standing on the tracks, facing the train._

" _Kyle, I think you should move."_

" _Hold on, Stan."_

 _And instead of moving, Kyle just closed his eyes and held out his arms to the side._

" _Kyle, what the fuck are you doing?"_

" _Stan, I'm ready."_

" _Ready for what, dude? Get off the fucking tracks!"_

 _But Kyle didn't budge, and Stan's eyes widened as the train got closer._

" _Kyle!"_

 _Stan couldn't wait any longer; he ran forward and tackled Kyle onto the ground, safely away from the tracks. He pinned Kyle down as the train roared past them, Kyle just lying there staring up at the sky, smiling. When the train finally passed, Stan punched Kyle square in the jaw, causing the teen to yelp in pain._

" _Kyle! What the fuck was that!? You could've gotten yourself killed!"_

 _And the words that escaped Kyle's mouth, hit Stan just as hard as the train would have._

" _Don't you think I know that, Stan?"_

Stan shook his head as the memory faded away, and looked back to Kyle, who was just staring at the wall in front of him.

"Kyle, you know I love you, right?"

Kyle nodded his head. "Yeah, Stan I know."

"Then you know that I would hate to see you get hurt… Or worse than that."

Kyle nodded once more.

"But, Kyle. I hope you realize that I'm not always going to be there in times like this. I have a life too, dude. I can't always come to your rescue when you're having a bad day. You need to start figuring things out, dude. You need to get help; you need to get better, because I can't lose you."

"I'm trying to get better, but it's so hard."

Stan wrapped his arm around Kyle's shoulders. "I know it's hard, Kyle. But you need to promise me you'll start going to counselling again. Because I'm scared for you."

"I promise, Stan."

Stan sighed in relief at Kyle's words.

"And… Stan?"

"Yeah dude?"

"Thanks, for being there. Even though I know I bother you sometimes."

Stan shook his head. "Don't be sorry, Kyle. I just get mad because I'm so worried about you. It's a funny way of showing it, I guess. Now, how about we head home?"

Kyle smiled and nodded as Stan held out his hands to help the boy to his feet.

Before exiting the bathroom door, Kyle grabbed Stan into a tight embrace.

"You're my hero, Stan Marsh."


End file.
